Gerard, the Burn Victim
by ThisStoryTeller
Summary: Gerard Way only wants to become the world's greatest artist, not the living dead.
1. Chapter 1

**There's no second chances **

**No time for romances**

The Old Man gave out a _puff_ sound as the tiny girl in pink skipped down his drive way, her soft humming echoing throughout the cloudy winter sky. His black eyes darted up to the bar protected window on the left side covered by a cream curtain. He knew the reason why the little girl came to his home; not for him, but for the antisocial boy who sat in his room all day mixing colors and perfecting straight lines.

"Good morning mister," the little girl exclaimed with big, bright brown eyes and a dazzling, dimpled smile that would weaken the strongest of men. He twisted the corners of his mouth into a tiresome grin, folding the newspaper in his hands and placing it on his lap. "Why, good morning miss Lenore," he said in a deep, husky voice that did not seem to match his thin, grey features. "Lovely little coat you're wearing."

Lenore's pale cheeks turned a crimson color and said, "My papa brought it all the way from France." She did a tiny twirl for him and he chuckled. Children always brought him joy to him. He stood from his chair on the white porch, opening a wooden door with a glass window for her. Lenore smiled her dazzling smile and entered his warm home.

The Old Man closed the door and took his seat on the white porch once more, silently praying the boy would be kind to her, unlike her last visit.

Lenore wandered up a flight of stairs, humming a soft tune. She skipped to his room once she reached the top. She could hear him grunting; hear his brush as it glided across paper. Low, upbeat music thumping against the door, she peered her head through, giggling and walking inside, placing herself on his unmade bed.

He stood near the closed, covered window, his back to her. "What do you want?" he grumbled, feeling his back heat up with tension. He despised observers. And Lenore. He has no time for courting a dim-witted girl full of sunshine. Sunshine belongs not in his life. Lenore giggles, hugging her kness close to her chest, adoring how he became cranky around her.

"Watcha doing?" she said in a sing song voice.

"Not talking to you."

"Aw, c'mon Gerard, don't be so mean. I just want to play with you."

He laughed a sarcastic laugh. "Play? Frolicking around like savage beast with no morals?"

"Um... yeah! Wanna play hide-and-seek? I'll hide and you seek, or I can seek and you an-"

"I'm not gonna play with you, Lenore. I'm trying to create _Art_."

"Well, why can't you do it outside, where it's nice and refreshing-I got that word from papa, because he used it when we had dinner in that fancy eating place-it's called a _rester-rant_, I think. I could never spell it right... or say it right..." Lenore paused, distracted by a strand of her golden hair.

Gerard turned around, hoping she left; but to his dismay she sat there, a curious, cat-like expression on her face. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? He wanted nothing to do with her. _She's so stupid_, he thought, _not capable of finishing a simple sentence! _He put down his paint brush and approached her. "Lenore, I'll play with you," he lied, for an idea suddenly came to him.

"Really!" Lenore's eyes began to sparkle. He forced a smile on his face and said, "Of course. Here, I'll count all the way to a thousand, and you go hide."

"Wait, there's no such thing as a thousand."

"Yes, there is; and I can count all the way to it."

Lenore smiled, nodding her head. He was always so smart.

Gerard coaxed her to go hide, playfully counting backwards, till she disappeared from hearing range. Then he stopped counting and proceeded to paint again, smiling at the silence that surrounded him again. _That should keep her away for at least an hour... or two._

An hour passed when the Old Man entered his room, angry.

"Why was Lenore hiding in the oven? I almost burned her," he gruffly said. Gerard only shrugged his shoulders. The Old Man grabbed him by the shoulders, turning him around and smacking him on the cheek. "She said you told her to hide! The poor girl, she was crying, Gerard. Her parents had to take her to the doctor because she inhaled too much gas."

"You turned the stove on?"

"Goddamn it, Gerard! I didn't know she was in there."

Gerard shrugged his shoulders. The Old Man breathe heavily, highly upset with the boy.

"One day, you will regret being so cruel to that little girl, boy, and I will be the one shrugging my shoulders." He left Gerard alone, closing the door silently behing him. Gerard could only stare in disbelief and revulsion. _Me, care for that stupid Lenore? Never. _


	2. Chapter 2

**No consequence weighing**

**His heart left decaying**

_Eight years later..._

Gerard opened the envelope nervously, as if it contained a very sensitive artifact inside that would explode if handled inappropriately. The Old Man snored quietly beside him, his feet resting on Gerard's lap a wool blanket covering them both. He'd been waiting what felt like years for this letter to arrive. He almost decided to not read it, to throw it in the trash and forget about it; but that wouldn't be fair to him. His future depended on this letter.

He pulled the letter out, damp hands imprinting wet fingerprints on the edges. Gerard panicked as. His eyes scanned it for their answer. He didn't like what he saw.

_... regret to inform you... do not meet the required standards... _

To make it plain and simple: REJECTED.

Gerard cursed, waking the Old Man. "What's going on?" he mumbled in a stupor. Gerard just shook his head, folding the letter and shoving it in his pocket. That's when the doorbell rang. "Get it for me," the Old Man yawned, turning over to sleep. Gerard pushed his feet off of him and stood up. He never felt so angry and depressed at the same time. Opening the door made him even more angry.

"Hello, Gerard," she seemed to sing, eyes beaming at him. "can I come in?"

"No!" He slammed the door. Then he wiped a tear from his eye and opened it again. Lenore still stood there grinning like he expected. He gesticulated for her to enter. "Guess what," she said, sitting on the couch where the old man slept. Before Gerard could answer, she said, "I got accepted into that college you wanna go to." His heart sank. "Isn't that great! Now we can always be together."

"Shut up Lenore." He went into the kitchen to escape her, but she happily followed him there. "C'mon Gerard, you were the one who said you didn't want to be alone." She sat on a plastic, yellow chair and smiled at Gerard. He hated that smile, it was so bright and optimistic, cute. "What's wrong?" He'd never admit it, but deep down he knew Lenore was the only one who ever understood what went on in his head, how he functioned. Every little gesture he made, she understood. He handed her his rejection letter.

Lenore's eyes scanned the letter, widening with every word. He could tell she was upset by her constant blinking. "If you want, I can ask daddy to get you in," she suggested, delicately setting the piece of paper down on the table when she was finished. "I'm sure he'd love to help." Gerard shook his head. "I don't want to cause too much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all, really." She rose from her seat, grabbing the letter. "I'll go ask daddy now." Her smile returned. "Don't worry Gerard, you'll get in. I'll make sure you do." Lenore hugged him, placing a kiss on his cheek then leaving. Gerard could only sigh. Lenore had a habit of doing things like that.


	3. Chapter 3

**He's lost in his thinking**

**Disguised by his drinking**

Life isn't fair, of course, you have to suffer in order to achieve anything. To get somewhere. Suffering is what inspires and makes a person much more interesting. Suffering is like a seasoning.

Suffering.

The word kept repeating itself again and again inside his head, driving him mad.

Suffering. Suffering. Suffering.

Tomorrow is his birthday. How sad it all was to him. Tomorrow he will be an adult and he will have nothing to show for it, just a cake and useless presents, useless wishes.

Then he recalled what Lenore said. _If you want, I can ask daddy to get you in... It's no trouble at all, really. _She sounded so hopeful, as if her father was one to help anybody out.

"Oh, he'll help, all right. Help taunt me." He reached underneath his mattress and pulled out a full bottle of amber liquid that he'd stolen from a liquor store yesterday on his way home from school. Twisting the cap off, he took a long, blissful sip, enjoying the burn it left behind.

Tomorrow he will be an adult.

The more he sipped, the more the idea of becoming an adult sounded nice to him. He would be able to do what he pleased whenever he pleased. Nothing the Old Man can do about it. He would like to move out to the city where everyone goes and meet people who share his interest. No Lenore, no Old Man, no teasing classmates. He would be what he always wanted to be. He smiled coyly. "Yes, my life will start over."

One more sip just one more sip. Another wouldn't hurt. He licked the rim of the empty bottle till it went dry and all he could taste was glass. Falling on the floor he hiccuped a harsh giggle. Then he thought about Lenore and grew angry.

"It's not fair!" he slurred, dropping the bottle. "She can do whatever she wants 'cause she's related to Daddy Warbucks. Can go anywhe-anywhere, but-but me, I have to-all I have is-is this old man who isn't even related to me!"

Tears formed, then fell from his eyes. Looking up at the ceiling, he thought about his real family, happy and laughing, unaware of the danger that had taken them all. He had been a miracle child because he survived the fire. "They don't understand." He tried to stand up, but fell. "It came out of nowhere." He remembered the pale skin and red mouth twisted up into an ugly smile. It had laughed at him. It had played a nasty trick on him.

_I had to teach you a lesson. You can't just toy with me like that, little boy, it's impolite. Someday you will thank me._

More tears fell.

Gerard never mentioned such a creature to anybody, afraid they will blame him for causing the fire. Better to be thought of as an accident than get carried away. Who would believe him, he thought, wiping his eyes. It was gone now anyways and he was safe in a new place with a new someone.

Gerard picked up the empty bottle, wishing he hadn't finished it, before passing out cold on the floor, Lenore swimming in his head again.


End file.
